The Other Side of Someday
by Miss DiNozzo
Summary: "I'm not leaving for good, I don't think, but at this point I think it would be best for everyone if I just kept my distance." OR The one where Mike flees the country to figure things out.
1. Chapter 1

**HEY GUYS! IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY HEARD THE AMAZING NEWS, DANIEL SUNJATA AND AARON TVEIT JUST ANNOUNCED THAT MIKE IS 'ALIVE-ISH!' Oh, and I have a new story for you. Okay, so this one probably won't be super long, and what you have here is just a tiny prologue (sorry). Enjoy!**

I've always been a dreamer, so determined to make my life the way that I wanted it. I was driven, focused, prepared. My parents would tell me to slow down, come back down to earth and all, but nothing could stop me. Being an FBI agent was all I ever wanted. After that? I didn't know. I still don't know, actually.

It figures, though, that the one thing in my life I thought I would be completely prepared for is the thing that obliterated me. See, that's the tricky thing about dreaming. In your dreams, you are the best of the best. In your dreams, things go exactly to plan. In your dreams, _you don't fail_. In reality, the dangers are real. There are no second chances. I failed. I am a failure.

My life has done my childhood dreams an injustice. I am not the man I hoped to be. I am flawed and controlling and raw and selfish. I am a liar.

Maybe someday I can fix the mistakes I've made.


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark when Johnny came home that evening, even though it was only seven thirty. That wasn't unusual this time of year though; the days were shortening and the nights were lengthening, leaving them in the dark as early as five o' clock by the time the first of December rolled around. So it was completely understandable that, on this day, the eighteenth of November, Johnny was surrounded by total blackness.

Well, almost. A single bonfire lit the shadowy beach, glowing in reddish-orange hues and casting light on the faces of the recognizable figures around the flames. His roommates looked to be beyond wasted, stumbling around like idiots, and while Johnny would normally be very interested in joining their club of drunken fools, he was exhausted and stressed. He'd hit a roadblock on his current case, and after today's failed meeting, he was in no mood to celebrate. He sighed and climbed up the stairs into the house.

The kitchen was, unsurprisingly, a mess of empty shot glasses. A conglomeration of tonic and rum bottles were open on the counter and the bar had about four separate tumblers sitting out. A part of Johnny was pissed that he had missed the "it's five o'clock somewhere" party that had obviously taken place here, but the other part of him was relieved that he would be the one serving coffee to his hung-over housemates instead of the other way around. So with the pleasant thoughts of having a quiet night in relaxing in bed, he wandered up the stairs to his bedroom, only to find his bed already occupied.

Mike had been working; he had three files spread out on the bed and one in his lap. One of his legs was stretched out and the other was bent, his arms crossed over his chest. With his head supported by Johnny's pillows, the young man was fast asleep.

At first, Johnny had done a complete double take. Mike was the last thing on Johnny's mind as he had opened the door to his room. This was even more unexpected because Johnny had seen all of his housemates out at the bonfire a few moments ago. Or at least, he thought it was all of his housemates. Apparently he had missed one.

Pulling his jaw up off the floor, Johnny made his way over to the bed. He was confused, to say the very least. Why would Mike choose _his_ bed? He had a perfectly good one of his own right next door. Sure, as roommates they shared pretty much everything. That came with the territory. But beds? That just wasn't normal. It wasn't tremendous, but coming from cocky, self confident Mike, it was…concerning.

It was like he had gone seeking comfort and Johnny hadn't been there so he went for the next best thing.

Or maybe he was reading too much into the situation. He probably _was_ reading too much into it if he was being honest with himself. Mike was probably just washing his sheets and wanted someplace comfier to work than his desk. Okay, so it was a long shot, but Johnny still didn't understand why Mike was on his bed. Sighing and closing his mouth, Johnny collected the paperwork from around his sleeping roommate and discarded it on his desk.

Things had been less than easy for Mike these past few weeks, what with the Bureau blaming him for the deaths at the Solano's and formally investigating him, nearly dying, almost losing his job, barely closing the Solano case. And that wasn't even the worst. He'd come home to the house feeling like a stranger. The air was so thick with tension that it was a miracle his lungs didn't collapse again. And then the whole mess with Paige—Mike's stress levels must have been through the roof.

Which is probably why he was getting headaches so often, Johnny deduced. He'd come home many times the past weeks to find Mike reclined on the couch cradling his head and more than a time or two he'd caught him massaging his temples during dinner when he thought no one was watching.

The miserable man he saw before him was the culmination of a series of arduous days and an equally impressive streak of sleepless nights. While technically Mike's name had been cleared, he'd done enough to piss off the higher ups that he still felt the need to practically drown in his work in order to prove his dedication and loyalty. Coupling that drive with the nightmares he undoubtedly had of the traumas he had undergone recently, it wasn't surprising that Mike's health was failing.

But Johnny was more worried about the fact that Mike's emotional state seemed to be crumbling, too. Gone was the cocky D.C. attitude from the past summer, replaced by a nagging insecurity that trailed behind him like a chain. Johnny had noticed Mike becoming a less and less active member of the household, rarely speaking up and responding monosyllabically when spoken to. It was like he knew he'd screwed up and he was so scared of repeating it that he'd given up trying.

It was true, though. Mike had screwed up. Badly. Johnny wasn't even sure he'd totally forgiven him yet. But that didn't mean he stopped caring about him.

"Mikey Mike," Johnny whispered, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to his roommate. Mike's eyes slowly opened, thick with sleep. When they focused, awareness leapt to his features and Mike bolted upright.

"Oh, shit, sorry John," Mike mumbled, fumbling for the files that weren't there anymore. "I came to talk to you about the case and you weren't here, and I thought you might be back soon, so I—"

"Dude!" Johnny interjected, causing Mike to freeze. "It's okay. Seriously it's no big deal." Mike sagged a little bit in relief, spotting his files on Johnny's desk and standing up to retrieve them.

"I'm just gonna head back to my room, now, I guess," Mike trailed off, turning to go. He was just in front of the door when Johnny called out to him.

"Wait, Mike. You okay, bro?" This seemed to stop Mike in his tracks. Sure, he'd had a headache all day but he'd chalked it up as another one of the stress headaches he'd been getting ever since he returned to Graceland. But Mike knew Johnny wasn't really asking about that.

"Yeah," he said anyway, trying to avoid having a meltdown in his roommate's room. He'd already inconvenienced Johnny enough.

Johnny sighed and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Look, Levi, I know it's your job to lie and all but could you be honest with me just this once?" When Mike just stared back at him like a deer in headlights, it only fueled him further.

"Seriously, what the hell is up with you, man?" Johnny boomed. "I know you're not okay and you know it too and you still try and lie to me about it? Why do you do that? Why?" Mike just cowered back a bit, watching as Johnny's temper flared.

"Come to think of it, you haven't been honest about a damn thing since you came back here. Not since you came back three weeks ago, not since you came back this summer. You adopted this holier than thou attitude and you were entitled to the fucking world! But you didn't tell us about what a shithole your life in D.C. was and how you were at a dead end on everything. You pretended we were the failures who needed you when all along it was _you _who needed _us_!

"And then you fucking _burned_ Lina and you let Paige believe she ran! You are a piece of shit for that, you know that? And then what you just pulled, that 'I was looking for you so I thought I'd settle down on your bed' act! You're a perpetual liar, Warren, and I hate that about you.

"Do you not have eyes, man?" Johnny burned. "We _care _about you. I asked just now if you were okay because I genuinely care. C. A. R. E. It's something that people do when they love you. You're a member of this family, and no matter how shitty you act nothing will change that and _dammit _I care!"

Mike didn't say anything for a long moment, letting the words that had rolled off of Johnny's tongue just moments ago die in the air before he spoke.

"You want the truth?" He spoke levelly, looking Johnny straight in the eye. "I am the burnout. My life in D.C. was a shithole. And I burned Lina because I am a coward."

"Dude—"

"You can care all you want, but nothing will ever change any of that."

Johnny looked on silently as Mike proceeded to turn on his heel and disappear behind the door. He really hadn't meant to get so angry; in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do. But he had and he'd pushed Mike away in the process. Just what Mike needed right now.

Groaning and flopping face first on his bed, Johnny pounded his fist into the mattress. He was supposed to be the one that Mike could come to! With the rest of the house icing him out, Mike was pretty much completely isolated and Johnny hated that. He didn't want that for him. He groaned realizing just how shit a job he'd done of showing that tonight. Finally mustering the energy and confidence to go next door and apologize, he rose from his bed and walked to Mike's room.

What he found though, was not something he expected. The closet had been stripped bare. The hard shelled blue suitcase was gone, as was the navy blue knapsack, and Mike was nowhere to be found. A note lay neatly on the desk next to the paperwork Mike had been working on.

_Johnny,_

_ God, you were right. I wish I could say it was a revelation to hear those things from you but it really, really wasn't. You just confirmed everything I had thought myself. Thank you, though. As you've probably gathered, I left. Don't feel guilty; it was only a matter of time before I left anyways. You just solidified for me that now is the right time. I'm not leaving for good, I don't think, but at this point I think it would be best for everyone if I just kept my distance. I'll see you sometime._

_ Mike_

Johnny was numb for a moment after reading the letter. Mike was _gone_? Nothing was even registering. There was one thing he couldn't shake, though. He'd only sat in his room for a few minutes after he and Mike fought. No way he packed that fast.

No, his bags were already packed.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike sighed deeply as he walked up the path to the old Spanish villa. It had been years since he'd been here, but in the rush of leaving, it was the only choice.

It's not that he didn't want to come here. Spain was a beautiful country, filled with a beautiful language and equally beautiful people. The food was exquisite and the culture lively. But coming here was always second to the job. Now that he had next to nothing in that area, it just seemed to be a natural fit. Mike closed his eyes briefly before raising his hand to the door to knock. He heard footsteps padding towards the door and his breath hitched in the back of his throat.

"Hola, Ricar—Mike?" Katherine Nieves stood stunned in the doorway of the beautiful house, gaping at the man she had so dearly missed.

"Hola, hermanita," Mike mumbled, wrapping his arms around his sibling. "I missed you Kate."

"Mikey," She whispered into his shoulder. "It's been too long." She pulled out of the hug, examining him at arm's length. "So I love this happy reunion crap as much as you do, but…" Kate trailed off, waiting for Mike to jump in with the answers.

"I need you to put me up for a little while. Things are kind of going crazy at home and I just needed to get away." Kate furrowed her brows a little, confused and slightly concerned, but smiled nonetheless and stepped from the doorway to allow her brother in.

The house was just as Mike remembered it—grand and rustic, very beautiful. Just the kind of place his sister had always dreamed of living.

Kate had always been extremely driven. She'd known what she wanted out of life at an early age and goddamn if she didn't spend every day of high school and college planning out just how she would get exactly this. Language was her passion, and after studying abroad in Spain for a year in university, she'd made the bold decision to become an expatriate teaching English to the locals. That's when she met Marco, her now husband and the father of her two children.

Mike envied her ability to chase her dreams. Sure, he'd done a great job chasing his. He just never really thought about what would happen when he caught them. So here he was, standing in the foyer of his extremely successful sister's house and both loving and loathing her for it.

"So where are Marco and the kids?" Mike asked, leaving his luggage by the door and following his sister into the kitchen. She set a cup of coffee in front of him in a colorfully painted mug.

"They're at the market. Marco can bargain way better than I can and he likes to take the kids. Sophia and Bella love it," Kate mumbled absent mindedly as she poured herself a cup of coffee and mixed in crème. "And a plus is that they've tried so much food they aren't picky eaters." She added this statement with a laugh and a pointed look at her family's resident picky eater.

"I'm sorry that I don't like the thought of putting things that were once swimming in my mouth!" Mike laughed, feigning offense. If he was being honest with himself, he knew it was true. In terms of food he was choosy and not just any old riff raff got the pleasure of entering his mouth.

They fell into a comfortable silence, both sipping their drinks and just enjoying the peacefulness. The sounds of a footsteps and laughter filtered into the house through the open windows, breaking the siblings from their reveries.

"¡Kate, estamos aquí!" Marco's deep voice echoed through the house. "¿Qué estás haciendo, moneda?" Marco continued as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. The man trailed off as he caught sight of Mike sitting at the bar across from his wife. Immediately switching from Spanish to English, he set the bags down and went to greet his brother in law.

"Mike! What a surprise!" Marco boomed, taking the man closely in a hug. "What brings you here?"

Mike hesitated for a moment before responding. He wasn't really ready to confide in his family about what had happened to him yet, so vague was probably his best bet at the moment. "Work's just been kind of crazy lately, so I thought I'd take some time off and come see you guys." Marco seemed to accept this and called Sophia and Bella in from the yard to greet their uncle.

The twin eight year olds were ecstatic to see him, to say the least. There was squealing and jumping and overall delight. Mike was equally excited to see his nieces, but a headache was forming at the base of his skull and it was all he could do to not wince at his nieces' joyful shouts. He held up though, barely making it until his nieces calmed down.

After the initial shock had worn off, they all settled in the common room of the house to watch a movie. Kate and Marco settled on the love seat while Mike sank into the couch with Bella and Sophia on either side of him. The girls snuggled into his side as _Finding Nemo_ started to play. Mike couldn't deny how comfortable he felt here, surrounded by family. They were warm and welcoming and far from the makeshift family he had created for himself at Graceland.

He felt his eyes slowly drifting closed as the movie progressed. He was exhausted from his eleven hour flight and his headache was getting progressively worse. The time was only just past nine, but he could feel himself slowly losing the battle with sleep and reluctantly enough, he laid his head back against the couch in defeat. Letting his eyes fall shut, he allowed the darkness to surround him and block out the remaining world.

It did not escape Kate's notice that her brother was ready to pass out. His distant behavior and vague reason for coming were startling enough, but coupled with this new development, Kate was really starting to worry about her brother.

Mike slept for the remainder of the movie and for the entire time that Marco and Kate were putting the two girls to bed. It was after ten thirty when Kate returned to the common room to find him still sprawled out on the sofa. Kate felt bad waking him, but she knew he'd be more comfortable in the guest bedroom.

"Mike," She whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You in there?" Her brother stirred a little at her touch, blearily opening his baby blues to find his older sister standing above him. She gazed down at him curiously as he groaned and stretched his joints.

"What time is it?" Mike breathed, rolling his neck.

"Almost eleven," Kate mumbled. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Mike mumbled, standing and walking over to the door to grab his suitcase. "Thanks for getting me." Mike shouldered his back pack and walked wordlessly towards the back of the house and the guest bedroom, leaving Kate to wonder incredulously in his wake.


End file.
